


However Long

by Futurebug



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futurebug/pseuds/Futurebug
Summary: Their garden is lilies...A short drabble.





	However Long

Their garden is lilies. Roses, baby’s breath and violets thrive too, but the lilies carpet the soil, perfuming the air with their delicate scent.

She adores their garden, just as she adores him. It’s their haven, a place to hide when she’s gripped by fear of her mortality, when he’s worried for his future without his life being dedicated to the archbishop. It’s a place they can have their lunches, share their little love letters, whisper to one another how much the other means to them. It’s a place where their dreams are shared, as are kisses.

The blooms in the spring are exceptionally lovely, the petals are soft on her skin as they lay in the field to soak in the sunlight, their fingers twined together.

“When I die, bury me here,” she says, allowing her eyes to flutter closed, a smile smile on her lips.

He doesn’t like that. He never did. Her mortality is something that always makes him deflect; his protests that he would find a way to fix what ails her follow like a prayer. And he had made that effort. Letters from their home to the two researchers he knew were a common occurrence, the letters she would read over his shoulder and correct for spelling and grammar as best she could.

Perhaps there was nothing to be done, perhaps there was. Whatever the case, she’d made peace with her fate long ago. Still, to have more moments in their garden, that was something she would never protest.

So she lets him carry on with his letters, lets him continue to grow lilies in their garden and carry her out to the fields to adorn her with the fruits of his labors. She in turn keeps the flower crowns they’d woven tucked away in a book, well preserved and loved. She keeps the letters he gave her when he travelled. She keeps everything. If nothing else, it would make for some nice keepsakes for him when she was no longer there.

And he does. Every scrap of evidence that he loved her and always will is made hallowed, protected in the corner of his home. Every letter he wrote to her, from his first attempt at holding a quill to his final promise of his affection he’d tucked into her hands as she breathed her last are there, kept neatly in a box. Every flower he’d plucked to decorate her white hair is dried and pressed and kept in the dark to prevent spoilage. Every recipe for sweets, every bottle of unused perfume that had been gifted to her by friends, every doll she’d had since she was young, kept under his watchful eye.

He’s good at cleaning, he’s good at maintaining. So that’s what he will do.

His garden is lilies. He misses her, even if she’s right there.


End file.
